Strawberry Tarts
by Kara Ashford
Summary: That damn smirk crossed his face again, “I win.” Something similar to ‘not on your life’ crossed Sakura’s mind before she definitely shoved the entire tart into her mouth.


Strawberry Tarts

_By Isabella Night_

**A/N:** This is my first attempt at writing Fanfiction so please review and tell me what you think? Criticisms and comments are welcome.

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**_Disclaimer:_**_Naruto and all related characters are not mine. I own nothing, not even my own soul. It's in a jar under my friend's bed._

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"Yes, they are, and no you can't."

Sasuke Uchiha glared, trying to stare down one Sakura Haruno, who was blocking his way towards his current objective: a stack of neatly piled and tasty looking strawberry tarts.

The avenger 'hn-ed'quietly, he was _supposed_ to be a genius.

He could calculate, to the exact millimetre, how far he could throw a kunai in any weather and under any conditions. He could memorize information and recite it with perfect accuracy even two months later.

He could perform complicated jutsu's and execute them perfectly, with minimal waste of chakra and in the least amount of time. He was the fastest shinobi in Konoha and his abilities with the sharingan were impressive to say the least and still improving.

He prided himself as being a top rank jounin and an ANBU captain at only 19 (although it was nothing compared to his brother's accomplishments, he was bitterly reminded, but that was unimportant at the moment).

He could do all this, and yet he could not persuade the rose-haired medic nin in front of him to hand over even one little tart.

Sakura sighed, placing her hands just above her hips, "Sasuke, you _can't _have one." She said firmly, her body positioned, almost in a defensive manner, so that if he tried to use his incredible speed, she'd at least have a chance at snatching the tarts away before he reached them.

"I _want_ one." The Uchiha replied. His voice was monotone and matching hers in pure determination.

"No." Sakura almost smirked in sadistic satisfaction as Sasuke narrowed his eyes at her unmoving form.

Perhaps someone who hadn't known the avenger as long as she had would have backed down and promptly handed one over to the scowling Anbu captain. And perhaps someone with more common sense would have as well, but she had known him too long to be intimidated by him that easily.

So far, she had only irritated the young man. If he were truly angry, then he would have used far more threatening methods to obtain his goal than a simple glare. As it was, she was not - she resolutely decided – going to oblige him. She'd promised the tarts to the children and staff at the hospital and Sakura refused, point blank, to hand one over to Sasuke if that meant risking leaving, even a single person, without a tart.

_I'd make a whole bakery full of tarts just for him, if he asked._ She thought, and then shoved it back quickly. This was no time to allow her feelings for the Uchiha-genius to interfere with the task at hand: protecting her precious baked goods. In fact she'd had no idea Sasuke even _liked_ strawberry tarts. He'd said on numerous occasions – and in a very blunt, and cold manner - that he hated all sweet things.

So when, Kana, a sick little girl with the most adorable blonde curls and innocent green eyes, had requested this one small favour, Sakura had never even considered that Sasuke might want one.

And now here he was, in her kitchen, fresh from another Anbu mission and his mask still in hand – the lone wolf, how _ironic_ – demanding one of her tarts. And she'd be damned if she let him have one, no matter what they're relationship was… or what she wanted it to be.

"Sakura…" Sasuke growled lowly in his throat in warning and still the kunoichi refused to budge. His body took a slightly offensive position, mocking her own and trying, and failing again, to intimidate Sakura into handing over a tart.

"Sasuke, you are not getting a tart," Seeing his eyes narrow a little more, she added, "but if there are any left you can have some. I have to make another batch for Naruto anyway."

The self-proclaimed Hokage-to-be had heard about Sakura's task and had begged her with the promise of treating her to a month of herbal tea at her favourite café, to make another small batch for him to give to Hinata. As a small surprise for their data when he returned from his weeklong mission, he'd explained.

"Hn." Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes at the Uchiha's eloquent response then watched as he relaxed his body and walked the few steps over into the kitchen and directly in front of Sakura. Her inner persona dearly wished that he would back up just a little so that he couldn't see her state of appearance in such detail.

She had been in the kitchen almost all day, after stopping off at the store to buy the necessary ingredients at five in the morning. After that she had been stuck in her small kitchen all day mixing, baking, and arranging the tarts perfectly.

Ideally, these were not the conditions that would produce a very happy, or well put together Sakura. Her pink hair was held up in a messy ponytail, and she hadn't so much as glanced in a mirror all day since she hadn't taken a shower yet or picked a particularly nice outfit before she started baking. She was going for practical; not attractive she'd told herself when she'd first started. She didn't want to ruin a perfectly nice outfit when she had some ugly things buried at the bottom of the closet for just this occasion.

Said ugly items were a pair of black capris and a red tank top beneath a bright pink and flowery apron. It had been a gag gift from Ino at her last birthday and the rose-haired medic thought it only fair to use the repulsive thing at least once before she tossed it on a large bonfire. Then no one would have to see her covered in flour, dough and strawberries and she could honestly say to her best friend that she _had_ used the apron – leaving out the very imaginative thoughts she'd had about destroying the garment before putting it on.

Her plan was foolproof; she just hadn't expected Sasuke Uchiha to come barging into her apartment demanding tarts. Sakura glared at him, he'd grown since Team 7 and now towered over her easily. That made her glare intensify; it was hard to intimidate someone when they were so unfairly tall.

The Uchiha snorted, clearly unmoved and tapped his foot impatiently against the tiled floor locking his eyes firmly with hers.

Sakura stood her ground – reminding herself that she was absolutely _not_ turning into a puddle of jelly as he looked at her like that. "I said 'no' Sasuke."

There was a pregnant beat between them in which neither moved nor spoke. Then, amazingly, Sasuke bowed his head slightly, shrugged, and turned towards the door to her apartment to leave.

The medic felt her jaw drop open in shock. Never mind the fact that he was using the door this time like a normal person; as apposed to the oh-so spectacular entrance he'd displayed when he'd appeared through her window. Had Sasuke Uchiha - avenger, prodigy, Anbu captain and all around I'm-awesome-so-bow-down-before-me, stubborn ass – just given up?

That's impossible! Sakura thought as she desperately tried to comprehend, unsuccessfully, how this had happened. Sasuke does _not_ give up, she remembered resolutely. It was in the Uchiha handbook – along with '_Exist as a human ice-cube'_ and _'Answer all questions with one-syllable replies'._ It didn't matter what the task, he never failed to do anything: from weeding gardens when they where gennins to beating up Naruto on Anbu missions. The idiot suffered more injuries from annoying the hell out of Sasuke than he did fighting S-class criminals!

So, clearly, Sakura was having a bit of trouble reasoning why Sasuke had just given up so easily. When he reached her door and still showed no signs of bluffing, Sakura, still baffled, could only turn back to her tarts to put the finishing touches on her display. She nearly screamed in outrage and shock when she discovered _exactly_ why the Uchiha was leaving without a fight.

There, on the very top of the pile, was an empty space where a tart should have been.

Sakura whipped around just in time to see Sasuke send her his trade-mark smirk as he raised the stolen pastry to mouth.

**_KILL HIM!_**

Sakura all but launched herself across her apartment to tackle the Uchiha to the ground.

Sasuke had been so startled by her attack that he couldn't react fast enough to move out of the way. There was a heavy 'crash', and Sasuke Uchiha found himself being pinned down by a very angry – and as he just discovered, pretty heavy – Sakura. She was straddling his waist, using her body weight to keep him down, and her hands held his each his wrists painfully at the side of his head.

It impressed him for a moment before it pissed him off.

Instantly his face hardened into one of his infamous 'Uchiha death glares', "Sakura…" His tone was murderous.

Sakura refused to be intimidated. Emerald eyes clashed with obsidian as the two engaged in a heated glare contest on the floor of Sakura's apartment.

"Give it back, Uchiha." She demanded without breaking eye contact.

He smirked, "Make me, Haruno."

Sakura was never one to back down from a challenge, and this was no exception. Without looking away from Sasuke, she made a grab for the tart in his left hand. She had unfortunately, she realised a second afterwards, given the Uchiha all the opportunity he needed. With his wrist released, Sasuke flipped the both of them over so that he was now straddling her.

_I _really_ hope Naruto doesn't barge in right now. _ Sakura thought dimly, as the Uchiha above her trapped both her wrists above her head with his spare hand.

Desperately, she tried to quell the flow of dirty scenarios her inner persona kept shoving to the forefront of her mind.

Sasuke grinned down at her – her heart jumped a little bit; Sasuke rarely smiled - still holding her down and waving the tart over her face tauntingly.

This was no longer about the children at the hospital, this was about pride. Calmly, Sakura collected chakra to her hands, freeing them, then rose up and snatched the pastry away from Sasuke before he could move. Quickly, she dove back into the kitchen, but not fast enough compared to that damn super-speed of his. She had barely steadied herself against the counter when Sakura found herself, once again, being trapped in a corner by the Uchiha.

That damn smirk crossed his face again, "I win."

Something similar to '_not on your life_' crossed Sakura's mind before she definitely shoved the entire tart into her mouth. This was about pride; manners could wait until after she gloated.

She crossed her arms over her chest, communicating that she'd won without having to spit tart all over the avenger in front of her. There was silence between them again as Sasuke stood his ground, debating in his head - since Sakura obviously couldn't speak at the moment - whether or not this battle was really lost.

Sakura leaned back against the counter, irritated. How long did it take for the man to accept that she'd won? Maybe that wasn't it. Maybe it was just the fact that he'd lost – stupid man and his ego. She glared at his unmoving form. She wanted him out of her way and out of her apartment so she could tidy herself up and deliver the remaining tarts. She would have told him off, but for that she needed full use of her mouth.

It came to a point when Sakura raised her hands to push the Uchiha out of the way that he closed the gap between them and kissed her mouth.

If Naruto had suddenly announced to the world that he'd surrendered to Sasuke, given up on ramen and worn a different outfit other than that blinding orange jumpsuit, Sakura wouldn't have been more shocked than she was at that very moment.

Sasuke Uchiha – **the_ Sasuke Uchiha_** – was kissing her, in her apartment, in her kitchen, in her god-damn flowery apron!

Surreptitiously, one of Sasuke's hands travelled up the length of her arm making her shiver, and cupped her chin with calloused fingers while the other snaked around the curve of her waist, holding her firmly against him. Sakura gasped when she felt his tongue prodding at her mouth, asking – no, Uchiha's never _asked_ for anything – demanding entrance and she obeyed. Her hands that had been ready to shove the avenger away wrapped around his neck pulling them both deeper into the kiss.

Her tongue danced with his, first timidly, then passionately as they fought for dominance. The hand that held her chin moved to the nape of her neck, holding her tightly against him. Dimly, Sakura felt the edge of the counter top dig into her hip slightly and Sasuke's fingers as they expertly found the knot tying the apron around her neck and unwound it. He stepped back momentarily to pull it from her frame and let it drop to the ground before crushing her against his body again.

Passion, heat, hunger… Sakura could barely think straight under the onslaught of his caresses. The 12-year-old girl she had once been cheered and danced a jig in her head as her girl-hood fantasy came true – sure she had envisioned it a little more… romantic? . Of course that didn't make her heart beat any slower, she noted as the two drew apart in order to satisfy that inconvenient need for air; screw fantasy, reality worked out just fine.

Her head had cleared enough by then to realise that Sasuke was no longer holding her but had backed up a few steps to watch her with his usual impassive face. His eyes held pure amusement though, and he ran his tongue along his upper making her blush and look away. Calmly, the Uchiha gathered the basket of tarts on the counter and handed it too her before heading for the front door.

"I'll walk you to the hospital." He said simply. Sakura nodded dumbly and watched as the Uchiha disappeared through the entrance.

It was only when he had exited through the doorway and was halfway down the hall when Sakura recognized the absence of the tart in her mouth.

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